Where Shadows Breathe [Legolas Fanfiction] :on hold:

Chapter Four: Brontide

Why I go to such lengths for Legolas, there are times that even I question. His tendency to forget his standing among the people has grown almost too common—not that he thinks his importance greater than any other, but rather that he treats it as far less—as if he were not the only blood heir of the throne. Despite my century long attempts—combined with those of the King—to instill otherwise in him, stubbornness would not yield to the truth presented to him.

All I can do is keep trying and hope Legolas doesn't fall prey to his own reckless determination.

Legolas took the knife to the armory, while I stayed in possession of the note. There was no significance to the handwriting, seeming purposefully scribbled and chaotic. That itself was not unexpected as it seemed unlikely that the offender would wish to be found out or recognized. I turned my steps toward Legolas's quarters—or more accurately, our late queen's table. Perhaps the location of the note held some significance—something missed at the initial examination.

I stopped. But what good could I do there—in halls of the palace far removed from all others? Something in that thought was amiss.

I traced my path back to behind where Legolas had gone. Our first hope now would be to find out who had passed through that hall in the day since we left on patrol. There was more chance that I would unearth some lead along that route than at where the note had been left. Come to think of, so far I had fewer suppositions than I had hopes.

Earandur and Legolas having walked out of earshot, I quickened my pace behind them. The two may have a different task at hand than my own, but I could still monitor Legolas until our path divided. They would continue to the armory while I would divert to the palace staff quarters, where the maids might bear witness to what had transpired. If one of them had seen any strange elf in the hall, our search would be aided greatly. And again—it was only a Fleeting hope.

Minutes passed lethargically. All seemed to hold to a momentary peace when a sound far from that peace reached my ears. Without a moment's consideration, I pulled a knife from my belt and broke into a run back toward the armory. Could Legolas truly not stay alive without assistance for even the smallest stretch of time?

The sound of blade greeting blade rang through the air as an ominous warning. Weapons were rarely used inside the palace walls. Amidst the cacophony, a disbelieving shout echoed down the corridor. Blades drawn in the heart of the stronghold was never a good omen—and it was more than a threat if in the vicinity of Eryn Galen's prince.

My run was cut short upon reaching the armory—almost. Few short steps from stepping through the doorway when a thud sounded and a body dove across my path. In the next second, a hooded person came into my line of sight and I narrowed my eyes, the situation coming to clarity in my mind. The one who had rolled in front of me bore the unmistakable bearing of Legolas. Opposite him, a hooded warrior moved forward, dark intention intwined in every movement.